Whose hips were you pushed from? Whose breast were you torn from? I know nothing of you but the brush of your lips From what house on which street? A suburban postcode or a dockside box? Cos i know nothing of you but the scent of your skin. You say your man wrote "Nancy Spain" Oh well then he could have been anyone. You should be very proud. Never heed hereafters Or stick yo a promise made. And Ill do better by you We've got hearts like twelve year old kids I'll take nothing from you But the sound of your quick tongue Nothing from you But the weight of your hair. And if your man wrote "Nancy Spain" Well then let him stay out there somewhere He should be very proud. He sang "Come to me my Nancy Stay with me for just a little while" But we'll lose that ring he gave to Nancy Spain.